


The Siege

by JJAndrews_Writing



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJAndrews_Writing/pseuds/JJAndrews_Writing
Summary: Banished from the Institute, the General of the Minutemen contemplates the future until her next step emerges before her. The Institute is coming for the Castle, and the battle to come will decide the fate of the Commonwealth.(Novelization of the Defend the Castle" Mission in Fallout 4)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

The Siege

**AN: So this story is effectively a novelization of the Defend the Castle mission from Fallout 4. If it’s popular enough I may write a sequel story.**

**I hope you all enjoy.**

Chapter One

General Hellen Grant of the Commonwealth Minutemen had not left her office in over a day. When she arrived at the Castle, she had given orders that she was not to be disturbed and hadn’t left since. Hellen wondered if her soldiers were worried yet, and in truth she did feel hungry, but at the same time she couldn’t face a meal. She was ashamed. It could have been done easily, if she had been a bit stronger. Nate would have been able to do it, but she wasn’t Nate, she was a lawyer playing at being a soldier.

In the year since she had taken command of the Minutemen, in the ten months since they retook the Castle, the Commonwealth had changed so much, new settlements had appeared and old ones had expanded, the Minutemen had never been stronger, but even now she felt vulnerable and alone.

‘I am the General,’ she whispered to herself. ‘I am in command and therefore I am alone.’

There was knock at her door and she sighed, realising that she was not presentable at all, her hair was hanging loosely, and her makeup wasn’t done. As for her clothes, her normal uniform was in the wardrobe and she was dressed in a white shirt and jeans.

‘Come in,’ she said and the door opened, Curie stepping in followed by Dogmeat.

‘Good afternoon,’ she smiled.

‘Madame, we must talk.’

Curie, since her mind had been uploaded to the Synth body, had changed so much, embracing her newfound humanity and becoming a valued member of the Minutemen, running the infirmary at the Castle which doubled as her own laboratory. She had even taken the lead in establishing the Minutemen Medical Division, training up a team of professional combat medics, granting her the rank of Colonel of the MMD and as such was wearing a clean tan duster and slouch hat with a white armband around her right arm to identify her as a medic.

‘Take a seat. What can I help you with?’

As Curie sat down, Dogmeat sat down next to Hellen and she began stroking him.

‘Madame, I and most of the other troopers are worried about you. You’ve not left this room since you arrived back here. This is not healthy for your physical or mental wellbeing. What happened?’

‘I don’t want to get into it.’

‘Did you and Monsieur Danse have a falling out?’

‘No,’ she shook her head and chuckled

The relations between the Minutemen and Brotherhood had been tense since the Prydwen arrived, with a few skirmishes early on, the largest of which involved sixty Minutemen and twenty Brotherhood knights in power armour near Nordhagen Beach which saw twelve people dead, but Hellen and Danse were able to persuade Maxson to come to a truce, even doing a few gestures where they inspected each other’s troops. As for Danse, Hellen and him did have a few “private encounters” but nothing serious.

‘Either way, for the sake of you and the men I must insist that you get dressed properly and come with me to have a meal at the Gatehouse.’

Curie was of course correct so Hellen nodded her head. Ten minutes later, her uniform on and her hair in a bun, she, Curie and the dog walked through the courtyard of the Castle. Since taking it back the walls had been repaired with brick and wooden walkways, the largest breach on the wall facing South Boston had been filled with a brick blockhouse with gun holes and heavy steel doors, a platform on top of it with stairs leading to the courtyard allowing a good firing position, though it was lower than the walls on either side. The radio equipment, still in the centre of the courtyard, was now encased in a hut made from welded iron. Their path took them past a group of Minutemen doing push up under Ronnie’s supervision. After accepting a few salutes from them they reached the Gatehouse, a bar with wooden walls and small windows. The whole place was built right at the side of the main gate and was usually the first stop for new arrivals. Half a dozen pack brahmin were padding around the pen outside the bar meaning there was probably a lot of caravan hands inside. Across from the Gatehouse, on the other side of the gate, were a few stalls set up where a few visitors and shop keepers were handling the sale of goods and a pair of children, Peter and Alex, were playing a simple game of basketball at a hoop in the Castle’s wall. Their parents were full time Minutemen and were therefore allowed to live in the Castle at the large wooden bunkhouse outside of the walls next to the greenhouse. Inside the Gatehouse it was busy with plenty of Caravan hands and Minutemen eating and drinking. Naturally Cait was also kicking up a lot of attention with an arm-wrestling contest in the corner table. It looked like a lot of caps were at stake for it as well.

‘Usual?’ asked Curie.

‘Sure. I’ll grab a table.’

She sat down at a table near the door, Dogmeat with her, while she looked around the place. The décor was pretty rustic, a Rad Stag head on the wall over the bar, a beaten-up portrait of an officer from Revolution and a Minuteman flag proudly on the wall next to a Nuka Girl poster. At the bar itself was Greg, the barman, wearing a dapper tuxedo and hat, laughing with a trader who had just arrived by the look of him while a cook was busy on the stove behind him, handling a lot of orders. Eventually Curie returned with two large glasses of Mutfruit juice and two plates of scrambled Mirelurk Eggs.

‘If you ever want to talk, my original hard drives had psychology journals downloaded.’

‘I think I just needed to get out of my office. Back before the war I had a colleague who slept at the office half the week when he was on a case. Never got away from work, it nearly killed him.’

‘In that case I think you need to get out some more. Next time we get an alert, you should go deal with it.’

‘I probably will. I could do with a simple raider mission.’

‘That’s the spirit.’

‘A few years and there won’t be any left in the Commonwealth,’ she said, partially to herself.

‘You’ve done a great job as general. See how much you’ve done for us all?’

‘I suppose so.’

I still failed. I lost my son. I failed the Synths.

‘How are the medics doing?’

‘Perfectly so far. I’ve noted a seventy percent reduction in deaths from injuries sustained in battle for the units the medics have been assigned to.’

‘Excellent Curie. I knew giving you this job was the smart thing to do.’

‘At the risk of sounding arrogant, you were absolutely correct.’

She had that innocent smile on her face, something that always gave Curie an almost child like quality.

‘Oh Curie my friend, you’re too good for this world.’

In the end, having lunch with Curie was the best thing for Hellen and when she returned to the office, she left the door open and spent an hour looking over reports. Record keeping was a vital part of her job and she almost found it relaxing. She was reading an after action report from Blake Abernathy about an attack on his settlement, five raiders snuck in the night and tried to steal the Brahmin but they were caught and gunned down easily. No friendly casualties. She was about to add it to the pile when the song on the radio ended and Travis’s voice spoke up.

_‘Ah we sure do all love that song folks. Now, it is six in the afternoon and as we get ready for the evening, let’s look over the latest news. Commonwealth Weaponry is happy to announce a reduction in the price of 45 calibre rounds for the next week only. Also, the City Council would again like to extend their thanks to General Grant for her intervention in saving Sullivan’s life and stopping the Synth McDonough from harming anyone else in Diamond City. Now, the weather and we can expect some heavy thunder storms in the next few days.’ CLANK, CLANK, CLANK. ‘Sorry folks someone’s at the door. Just give me a minute. You shouldn’t be knocking when I’m live you know. HOLY SHIT!’_

Hellen looked up from her papers at the radio, wondering what spooked him so much. The sound of heavy footsteps followed and Travis struggling.

_‘SEND HELP! SYNTHS! What are you doing? Look here, I won’t do a thing with a gun in my back! I won’t do anything if you have that damn gun in my damn back you bastard! Send help! What? They’ve given me a holotape. You want me to play it? Okay I will. The Synth’s are making me play this holotape for them.’_

Hellen was shocked, Synth’s in Diamond City? A few seconds passed but the next thing to speak over the radio struck her like a dagger made of ice to the heart.

_‘Hello, I am Father, leader of the Institute. While we have chosen to remain in the shadows, recent events have forced us into the light. The Minutemen’s unprovoked attack on Institute assets near Grey Garden will not go unpunished and therefore we issue these demands. The Minutemen are hereby ordered to dismantle all of their artillery pieces within one week of this broadcast. Furthermore, they are to surrender all automatic, energy based and high powered weapons. They are to limit themselves to .38 rounds in their weapons. Lastly, they will evacuate Fort Independence which shall become an Institute base on the surface. For this they have seventy two hours. Failure to do so will result in them being removed by force. There will be no negotiations, but I have full confidence that General Grant will have enough sense to not fight us. The future in the safe hands of the Institute.’_

Without wasting a moment, Hellen marched out of her office, past a pair of troopers who were rushing to get her.

‘I heard the broadcast,’ she told them and marched towards the radio hut.

She kicked open the door to find the operator shouting into the speaker.

‘Any Minutemen near Diamond City will provide assistance.’

‘Report,’ she said to him.

‘A dozen Synths in Diamond City have surrounded the radio hut there.’

‘Damn. Put me on the radio. I have a message for the Institute.’

‘Very well ma’am. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Radio Freedom, Voice of the Minutemen. General Grant is about to make a statement in response to the Institute’s ultimatum.’

She held the microphone to her mouth and thought about what to say next, knowing that one wrong word would be the end of them all.

‘Father, I do not respond well to threats. I tell you this, the Institute will not take the Castle, they will not hold the Commonwealth to their rules and they do not dictate the fate of the Minutemen. All available troops, please report to the Castle at once,’ she stopped for a moment, wondering if she should say what was on her mind, if she should say it, make that final step to the inevitable. ‘We’re going to war.’

She handed the mic back to the operator who nodded at her and got back to his job while Hellen walked back out to the courtyard where a crowd had gathered, nearly all the people of the Castle, civilians, caravaners and troops, children.

‘To your stations at once. All guards on maximum alert. If there are any visitors who want to help, grab a hat from the armoury and report for duty on the South Boston Field. If you don’t want or can’t help, fuck off. Civilians, report to the Gatehouse in ten minutes.’

…

The Gatehouse was often used as a meeting hall and a bunkhouse for the Castle and on that day it was the former. Most of the Minutemen were part time soldiers but they were built around a core of full timers who were usually at the Castle and as a result their families lived with them. There were also some civilians who worked on the Castle’s greenhouse, the shop keepers and the bar staff who were all crowded in the Gatehouse, maybe thirty or so people all together. As soon as Hellen walked in, all eyes were on her and Cait who had volunteered as her personal guard for the emergency. For a few moments Hellen was silent as she looked at those worried faces, there were children among them. They were all innocent.

‘When you agreed to live here, you did so knowing that we may fall under attack. That time has now come. What you have brought to this place is more than just food and drink, you have brought comfort, a sense of home and family. You have made the Castle a home. That is why you all have to leave.’

‘No way!’ shouted Greg.

‘This is my home.’

‘We have nowhere to go.’

‘Please don’t make me leave.’

As she expected there was an uproar of protests and arguments from the crowd but after a moment she was able to shout them down.

‘This is for your own safety. The Institute is merciless and if the Castle falls, they will kill every soldier and take you prisoner as test subjects if you’re lucky.’

‘General,’ Greg, the smartly dressed barman said, he often was the spokesman for the civilians, ‘where would we go? This is our home.’

‘I have a long standing arrangement with Mayor Peterson of Spectacle Island. She has agreed to house you there until the threat is over. I will not force all of you to leave, but I insist that the children go and be accompanied by one adult. Anyone who wishes to stay however will be expected to take up arms and join the defence. Take some time to decide, but the boats to take you to the island will be here in three hours.’

Hellen was later surprised at just how many had chosen to stay, nineteen of them, including all the shopkeepers and Greg, had volunteered to fight to defend their home. The original garrison of the Castle had numbered fifty seven, including Hellen herself, joined by eight caravan hands and then the nineteen civilians. The first reinforcements arrived two hours after the radio call went out, from Spectacle Island, numbering fifteen Minutemen, soon followed by twelve men from Jamaica Plain. The next day saw more and more men arriving from across the Commonwealth. Groups of about a dozen troops came from each settlement, many joining together on the way and arriving together at the Castle. Most of them had been there before, but never had so many troops been there at once. Some arrived on boats from the coastal settlements resulting in the basic docks built at the Castle being packed with vessels. The largest group however arrived that night. Hellen was on the walls with Ronnie as they arrived.

‘I don’t know how we’ll keep them all housed,’ Hellen said to her as they walked along over the main gate.

‘We’ve got the mattresses laid out in the Gatehouse and the men brought enough tents with them.’

‘What about food?’

‘We have just enough in stores.’

‘Medical supplies?’

‘Curie’s taking care of that, everyone who brought their own have handed them over to her.’

‘When the fighting starts we’ll use the Gatehouse as a triage centre, just like we planned.’

They stopped over the gates and Hellen looked at the massive camp which had sprung up over the last day, Minutemen standing around, others preparing food and some playing music on instruments while others were clustered around radios. The Synths, according to Travis over the radio, had soon been destroyed by Diamond City security and Nick Valentine. They were only Gen 1’s so there wasn’t much danger and Travis was soon back to doing his job.

Hellen looked over to the security tower along the narrow causeway over the water where a pair of men were standing guard and then back to her troops. When she first took command, the Minutemen went into battle armed with pipe weapons and shotguns and dressed in their own clothes and tricorn hats. Since then she had built up workshops at Starlight Drive In to produce ammunition, armour and weapons so now every Minuteman wore a rough uniform. They had to provide their own basic uniform, a jacket or shirt made of tan or mustard coloured cloth being the only strict rule, the rest was provided by the Starlight workshops, a set of leather armour for the legs, chest and arms, though about half also wore a mix of salvaged pre war military gear. As for weapons, they were armed with heavy hunting rifles, a few larger automatic combat rifles and submachineguns. That said, many still had their own shotguns, pistols and, in some cases, laser rifles. They were well armed, well equipped, ready for the battle to come.

The men on the lookout post blasted their bugle, the alert that friendlies were approaching.

‘More reinforcements,’ said Ronnie. ‘Probably from the north.’

As she said it, from the ruins of Boston, emerged a solid line of men marching under a Minuteman flag. They marched closer, cheering as they did so, numbering around eighty or so men and soon she realised who was leading them.

‘Finally,’ she said and hurried down the wall, down a set of wooden steps over the rubble, and then out of the front gates just as Preston and his men reached the camp.

‘I’ve never seen so many Minutemen in one place,’ said Preston as they shook hands.

‘We’ll still be outnumbered by the Synths, but we’ll give them Hell.’

‘I hope so,’ said a familiar voice and that’s when Hellen noticed the man just behind Preston.

‘Blake, it’s good to see you again.’

‘You’ve done so much for us, I’m happy to fight here with you.’

‘Thank you. Now, get your men camped. They Synths will be coming tomorrow.’

‘What about us?’ shouted someone from within the column and a group stepped forwards, at once a smile broke across Hellen’s face.

Piper, Hancock, Nick, Macready and Codsworth, all coming forwards.

‘You’re all here?’ she asked.

‘Hell yeah!’ answered Piper. ‘I’ve dedicated my life to fighting the Institute, no chance I’ll miss a real chance to kick them up the ass.’

‘Same,’ agreed Nick. ‘They’ve caused nothing but trouble and I’ll be happy to help.’

‘We started this together ma’am,’ the Mister Handy happily told her, ‘and I intend on fighting at your side to the bitter end.’

‘When do we turn down a chance for a fight?’ Hancock asked with a broad grin, one copied by Macready, and Hellen noticed that there was a number of soldiers in the column wearing trilby’s and armed with tommy guns.

‘Is Goodneighbour in the fight?’ she asked Hancock.

‘The Minutemen have been good to us, and unlike the DC council, we back up our friends.’

‘Glad to hear it. Come on in then.’


	2. Chapter Two

The Siege

Chapter Two

The defences of the Castle were strong, twenty machinegun turrets and three laser turrets along the walls, wooden and metal ramparts along the top of the walls and over the main gate were steel rolling shutters they salvaged from a garage. As for the way from South Boston, where the small café was standing, the Minutemen had built a sturdy barricade from chain linked fences, chicken wire, dumpsters, Nuka Cola machines and welded corrugated iron. In its middle was a chain linked gate and across the whole thing were platforms in places six feet high granting the defenders a vantage point and barbed wire topped the whole thing. The space between the barricade and the wall was mostly empty, but at the side closest to the sea were sitting three wooden bunkhouses where most of the people of the Castle lived and a large greenhouse. On one of the bunkhouses upper floors were windows at just the right size for snipers to get shots in. Against raiders and even super mutants these defences were fine, but against a dedicated attack from the Institute, they may be pushed to the limit.

The previous night, Hellen and the other commanders of the Minutemen had been up until midnight in the command room beneath the armoury, going over their plans. Alongside herself were the five Colonels, Preston Garvey, Ronnie Shaw, Albert Fischer, Simone Worth and Johnny Khan, as well as Hancock as he was leading the troops from Goodneighbour. Their discussions had been long and arduous, working out what to do but the outlook was grim. They had never fought in a battle of this scale before and they had no idea of their troops were up to the task.

‘Now, there is one last matter to deal with,’ Hellen said to the others.

‘Excellent,’ said Simone. ‘I need some sleep.’

‘We all do,’ Hellen agreed. ‘What I am about to reveal is top secret and only Colonel Garvey is aware of it. For the past several months I have been operating alongside the Railroad.’

She let it sink in for a moment, the stunned faces before her telling just how surprised they were.

‘Not too surprising,’ said Shaw. ‘It explains why you were sneaking around so often.’

‘Have you been using the Minutemen as a tool of the Railroad?’ asked Johnny.

‘No. I always operated alone. I didn’t want to risk bringing us into a fight with the Institute before we were ready.’

‘We’re ready now?’ asked Hancock.

‘I can’t say for sure, but this isn’t what I wanted. With the Railroad I infiltrated the Institute in search of my son,’ they all knew her background, her history and her mission. ‘I arrived there and I found him, only to learn that after taking my boy I was frozen for a lot longer than I thought originally. I was frozen for sixty years.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Simone. ‘Mother to mother.’

Hellen answered her with a smile.

‘I learned that my son was raised by the Institute and is now known as Father.’

‘The guy on the radio?’ rasped Hancock.

‘Him.’

‘We’re fighting your son?’ asked Johnny.

‘As far as I’m concerned, Shaun Grant died the second he was taken from Vault 111. All that’s left is a husk of a bitter psychopath. There is still more. The reason they took him was for his DNA, uncorrupted by radiation and mutation, a pure sample of DNA needed to create a new generation of near perfect replicas of Humans.’

‘The Synths,’ concluded Simone.

‘Yes. I wanted you all to know this before we begin this fight, and to promise you all that I will not rest until the battle is won and the Commonwealth is free.’

‘You give us your word?’ asked Ronnie.

‘Of course.’

‘We’ll follow you to Hell if you asked us,’ said Preston and everyone else nodded.

‘Thank you. Now, let’s get a good nights rest before Colonel Curie sends us to bed without supper.’

Winning a round of laughs they left the chamber and shut off the lights.

That night, Hellen didn’t sleep very well and woke up early. If Shaun stuck to his statement, they had twelve hours left until the attack began. She got dressed in her normal uniform, looking over at the mannequin in the corner where her battle uniform was standing, she would wear it for the battle, before heading out into the packed courtyard where her men were sitting around the courtyard. Most of the troops were already up, carrying their tents down to the tunnels below, and many camp fires had been set up within the walls preparing breakfast. She walked amongst her men, sharing words with some of them and then walked onto the walls. She stood there for almost an hour before she was joined by Piper.

‘You okay Blue?’

‘Not really. I feel like I’m going to throw up.’

‘Me too. The Institute’s been casting its shadow over us all for a long time, now we’re facing them in battle. It feels strange. Have the Brotherhood said anything yet?’

‘Not a word, but since we’re not allies I’m not surprised they’re keeping out of it.’

‘All that power armour, all those choppers and they don’t want to help. Typical.’

‘Our odds aren’t good, and the Institute will be ready for battle by now. We’ll be outnumbered, outgunned. If we fail, we’re all dead. Did you make arrangements for Nat?’

‘Yeah. If I don’t make it, she’ll stay with Arturo.’

‘Good.’

Shouting started up below and the two looked down into the Castle courtyard where Blake Abernathy was in a fierce argument with someone in a Minuteman uniform, sans the hat.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Hellen said when she realised who it was.

‘I told you to stay at the damn farm!’

‘I want to join these guys!’ his daughter, Lucy, snapped back.

‘You’re not ready for this, you’re too young.’

‘The rules are clear and you can join up if you’re over sixteen.’

‘It’s too dangerous and you’re going home now!’

‘Be quiet the pair of you,’ Hellen told them both and they finally realised what a scene they were making. ‘Lucy, what are you doing here?’

‘I borrowed an old uniform and snuck in the column.’

‘General, please send my girl away. I did not give permission for her to be here.’

‘You have no right,’ Lucy snapped at him. ‘General, please, I’ve got to do this.’

 _Give me a break_ , she thought to herself.

‘Lucy, Blake, my office, now.’

She led the two of them into her quarters and once the doors were shut, Hellen sighed.

‘Okay you two, I don’t have the time or the energy to mediate between the two of you so I’ll make this simple. Blake, I know you’re worried, you don’t want to lose your last child, but she’s a grown woman and she has the right to sign up with the Minutemen.’

‘General,’ he protested.

‘Let me finish. Lucy, what will your mother do if you get killed? Do you want your father to go home and tell her that you died?’

Lucy looked down at the floor and sighed.

‘I just want to help.’

‘I know, and if you want to stay I won’t turn you away, but just think about your family.’

‘General, in the Commonwealth you can die at any time, but at least here I can do something worthwhile. I’ve wanted to join the Minutemen for years, I wanted to fight with you since you brought back Mary’s locket. I want to stay, even if I die.’

‘Lucy,’ her father whispered.

‘I’m staying,’ she defiantly told him and Hellen nodded.

‘Okay. We’ve got nothing else to discuss then.’

There came a pounding at the doors.

‘Come in!’ she shouted and Cait threw open the doors.

‘The Rangers have spotted Synths. Lots of the bastards!’

‘To positions,’ she told the two in front of her and they were all on their feet.

Hellen rushed towards the radio hut where Preston was waving her over.

‘Please repeat,’ said the operator.

_‘We were observing the South Boston Checkpoint when there were these bright flashes of light. Next thing we knew hundreds of Synths were swarming the area.’_

‘This is General Grant,’ she told the Ranger. ‘What are they doing?’

_‘They’re securing the area ma’am. More just flashed up, and more. My God, there are hundreds of them. Most are the usual type but, I think they’ve got the Human looking ones as well, some in black coats but hundreds in white armour.’_

‘Synth slave soldiers,’ Hellen muttered, realising what it meant, that the Third Gen’s had been pressed into service.

While she had been in the Institute she had seen the SRB’s and Robotics Departments plans for making an army of Third Gen’s but she didn’t think they would have got so far yet.

‘Okay, keep them under observation. If they begin moving on us, fire a flare.’

_‘Understood ma’am.’_

…

It was half past five in the afternoon on October the 30th 2288. There was half an hour until the deadline ran out. Helen stood in her quarters with Cait as she got changed into her heavier armour. She first put on her vaultsuit which over the last year she had modified with ballistic fibres and then Cait helped her with the pieces of her heavy combat armour, each plate painted blue and on the breast plate was the insignia of the Minutemen.

‘You need to use this more often,’ Cait said as she helped her with the shoulder plates.

‘It’s too heavy to carry everywhere but for this sort of thing, it’s perfect.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I just wish you’d wear something better.’

‘I like this outfit, practical and sexy.’

She was wearing what she wore when they first met in the Combat Zone, though with leather armour on her arms and legs.

‘I don’t think the Synth’s care about sexiness.’

‘I know that, the way Curie doesn’t notice how many are drooling over her is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

With all her armour now on, Hellen opened her large weapons trunk and began to get her kit for the fight. Four pistols, two of them 10MM’s on holsters on her leg plates, and the other two on her waist, one was Deliverer and the other she had named “Hope”, the revolver she took from Kellogg’s corpse. Next was a full stocked double barrel shotgun with a sawn off barrel which she put in a large holster across her back and lastly she pulled out her primary weapon, a short, fully automatic combat rifle. She looked at it and nodded, knowing it would serve her well for the battle to come.

‘Let’s do this Cait,’ she told her friend and they walked into the courtyard where Minutemen were lined in parade fashion alongside the Caravaner’s, the locals and the Goodneighbour Watch.

All her friends were dressed in armour, ready for battle, her men standing ready. Looking up at the walls she saw the rest of her men, watching her, wanting to hear her guidance. Piper and Nick joined her as she walked up the stone steps onto the walls and stood by the railings, looking out at her men. A microphone connected to the radio transmitter was set up there and she waited as the violin music reached its end and the operator spoke again.

_‘This is Radio Freedom, voice of the Minutemen. We have fifteen minutes until the Institute’s deadline runs out. General Grant wishes to make a statement.’_

Helen saw the red light on the mic turn on and she took a last steadying breath before speaking.

‘Citizens of the Commonwealth, for too long the Institute has believed themselves unstoppable. They sneer at us, they see us as barbarians rolling in the dirt while they live easy lives of luxury in their underground palaces in a twisted utopia built on the backs of slaves. They are cowards and their reign of terror begins its end tonight! We are the Minutemen! We are the Commonwealth! We say no to their demands, and if they make their attack, we will not stop until the Institute has fallen! The Commonwealth belongs to its people! To its farmers, to its merchants, to the people!’

Piper, as they arranged earlier, was the first to cheer which set off everyone, hundreds of men and women cheering and hollering after her words. Hellen held up her rifle and cheered as well, earning another round of even louder cheering. Hancock, standing with the troops from Goodneighbour began chanting their battle cry of “By the people! For the people!”

Then she saw the flare. Everyone saw it and when the cheering stopped Hellen began barking orders.

‘They’re coming lads! To your positions and God be with us all!’

Her men rushed to their positions, Hellen leading Nick, Piper and Cait along to the brick blockhouse filling the largest breach. Standing on the roof they found Curie, looking concerned but putting on a brave face.

‘You okay?’ Hellen asked her.

‘Just worried about our men,’ she answered. ‘This will be a close run thing.’

‘Wellington,’ she recognised the quote. ‘Ironic.’

‘Napoleon unfortunately didn’t have many appropriate quotes.’

The sounds of gunfire started up in the ruins of South Boston, probably mutants and raiders fighting the Synths. The battle was imminent.

…

SRB, the Institute.

Usually the SRB was avoided by the other heads of departments but now they were all there, looking at the virtual map table, zoomed in on the area around Fort Independence. Doctor Li found this distasteful but she had to be there to watch the live report of the battle.

‘The raiders and mutants in the area are resisting our advance,’ Doctor Ayo explained to them. ‘We believe it will take ten minutes to clear them out and then we begin our attack on the Minutemen base.’

‘Excellent Doctor,’ Shaun said and Li was worried about him.

He was looking increasingly frail, his mother’s betrayal had seemingly added another year onto him in days.

‘Anyway,’ Ayo went on, ‘we will attack in several waves. The first shall be a probing attack with Gen 1’s to test their defences. After that we shall launch a dedicated assault with the Gen 2’s to overwhelm their outer barricade and then we attack the blockhouse. At this point we will launch an attack with the Gen 3 Troopers and Coursers with ladders to go over the blockhouse walls and explosive charges against the doors. A simultaneous attack will then begin on the main gate with Gen 2’s and Coursers. This attack will aim to divert the Minutemen’s attention away from our main attack on the blockhouse.’

‘And when the walls are breached the Minutemen won’t stand a chance,’ said Shaun.

‘Precisely.’

‘Sir,’ said Doctor Filmore, ‘why not just relay our Synths onto the walls?’

‘While our new reactor gives us near limitless energy, the amount of stress this will put on the Molecular Relay could damage it severely,’ answered Li.

‘I understand.’

‘Contact our field commander,’ he instructed.

‘Very well.’

One of the screens nearby flickered to show the Courser in overall command of the attack.

_‘X6-88 reporting in.’_

‘X6-88, I believe that it is unnecessary to remind you that this operation does not require prisoners. Give no quarter.’

_‘Understood sir. Does this include your mother?’_

‘No prisoners, especially not her.’

Li had to hide her grimace. Hellen had been a pleasant woman and Li had thought that she would be a useful addition to the Institute. Her skill in combat was perhaps not as good as Kellogg’s and she was not as ruthless but her diplomatic abilities were excellent when dealing with all the departments. She could have been a great leader, her betrayal of the Institute was a shock to Li and many others, but she didn’t want her to die.

‘Do you have a problem with this order Doctor Li?’ Ayo asked her with a glare.

‘None,’ she answered. ‘I just wish it didn’t have to come to this.’

‘As do I,’ Shaun told her, ‘but that woman has left us no choice. The Minutemen fall tonight.’


	3. Chapter Three

The Siege

Chapter Three

The first movement they saw from the ruins were a small party of Minutemen rangers, the troops who had been observing the Synths. They raced across the open ground and were soon through the chain linked fence. After welcoming them back, Hellen ordered them onto the walls to act as snipers. Soon after them emerged more Humans wearing crude armour and leather. Raiders. Most of them were suffering from burns and they held their rifles and pistols above their heads, one waving a dirty white cloth.

‘We surrender!’ their leader, a large man with a full face tattoo shouted. ‘Please we surrender!’

‘Don’t open the gates!’ Hellen shouted through her megaphone. ‘Open fire!’

The Minutemen had standing orders for Raiders, take no prisoners. If they retreated they would be allowed to live but no quarters were offered for that scum. The men on the outer barricades began shooting and three of the dozen raiders were killed in moments. The rest ran away from the gates and into the small ruined café outside the Castle where they took cover.

‘Cease fire!’ Hellen ordered.

The raiders looked to be huddled inside the café and there was no point wasting ammo on them. The Synths would deal with them.

‘Madame,’ said Curie, ‘should we not let them in?’

‘Raiders are a pack of murderers and they have no right to shelter in these walls.’

She was clearly uneasy about it, but Curie reluctantly agreed. All eyes again turned towards the ruins where the gunfire had finally ended but was soon replaced by the sounds of marching feet. The first Synths soon emerged out of the ruins, Gen 1’s by the look of them, all skeletal figures without armour. Hellen pulled out her small pocket telescope and looked at them, about half were carrying pistols, the other half were wielding stun batons. Amongst them she couldn’t see any Coursers.

‘They’re probably going to test our defences,’ Hellen concluded and looked down towards Preston, commanding the outer barricade, and nodded.

‘Minutemen!’ he shouted. ‘Present arms!’

His men scattered along the barricade, on ladders and at loopholes, or in sniper positions in the bunkhouse windows, aimed their rifles at the enemy which had formed into a three rank deep line.

‘Hold fire!’ Preston ordered his men. ‘Mark your targets when they come. Look to the front!’

‘Sharpshooters,’ Hellen ordered the men armed with scoped rifles on the walls, ‘hold your fire. Don’t waste bullets on the grunts. Aim for Synths wearing black coats.’

Hellen and the other officers had been up until one in the morning discussing the plan of battle and now it was time to put them to the test. Looking back into the Castle, Hellen could see most of her troops sitting on the ground, gripping their weapons nervously. Altogether she had around three hundred troops, there were that many Gen 1’s formed up against them outside and even more Synths still in the ruins. They were in for a long night.

The Synth attack began in silence, no shouting, no cheering, just the clattering sound of metal and plastic feet against the ground, racing forwards.

‘Steady fire!’ Preston shouted at last and his men on the barricade began shooting.

Steady fire was the order to fire taking slow, well aimed shots at the enemy as they advanced. For the hunting rifles that was fairly easy but the men with automatic weapons fired extremely short, highly controlled bursts. The idea was to give the impression that the Minutemen were poor soldiers, making the Institute think they had a better position than they really had, and to save ammo for the main attacks later. One by one the Synths dropped down, chunks of wires and metal blown off their mechanical bodies in a strange parody of Human deaths. When the Synths reached the café they rushed in and the raiders fought back, for about a minute the sounds of gunfire and shouting came from there but soon they were silenced, a few battered Gen 1’s emerging from the ruin afterwards wielding bloodied batons. The Synths came on with their attack and a few reached the barricades, beginning to climb over it but they were beaten back with rifle butts and pistol fire. The first attack had been beaten back with no casualties. Hellen wanted to cheer but the sight of more Synths emerging from the ruins silenced any thought of it. More Gen 1’s, armed the same as the first wave, and silently they charged. They were firing as they attacked, bolts of blue laser fire scattering everywhere and forcing the men on the wall to duck behind the ramparts. Preston’s men returned fire as they did last time. However, the pistols were inaccurate and so were the Gen 1’s so little damage was done.

Down on the walls, Preston stood in one of the towers on the barricade, wielding his laser musket and shooting a Synth. The powerful laser bolt vaporised the Gen 1 but Preston had to duck when a pair of Synths began shooting at him. A few seconds passed and the Synth’s stopped so her charged up another shot and stood up, aiming at a Synth and firing again. The baton armed Synths had reached the barricades and were trying to climb over them, in places they came close to the top but his men held, beating them down or blasting them apart. A scream filled the air and a man near Preston, Charlie, he remembered his name, from Starlight Drive In, was struck by three blue laser blasts and fell from his position, thudding against the ground. A medic was soon by him but shook his head.

The first Minuteman had fallen. The first of many.

Preston looked towards South Boston where he saw another wave of Synths forming up, these ones all wearing clean white uniforms and body armour, all carrying rifles. The battle had only just begun, now it would get even worse.

…

A dozen attacks later and the barricades were still just holding. Hellen watched as the Gen 2’s would dart from small areas of cover to another one while firing their lasers. Hundreds of smashed Synths littered the ground but their attacks were relentless. Many of Preston’s men had been killed and wounded while in places parts of the barricades had collapsed thanks to Synth’s throwing grenades. Medics were carrying out work on the wounded men right behind the barricades while others carried men on stretchers back into the Castle. Hellen looked at Curie who was down there trying to stop a man’s bleeding, her sleeves were covered in his blood as she fought to save the soldier’s life. At last the man stopped moving and Curie sighed, she’d lost him. Hellen had to look away, it was just one more death in the battle.

The sharpshooters around Hellen on the wall were firing as fast as they could, the intensity of their attacks forced Hellen to change her earlier orders, and Preston’s riflemen were doing something called a “mad minute” where they would fire fifteen rounds in a single minute at the enemy and the result was hundreds of destroyed Gen 2’s. The wave attacks had stopped and had been replaced by an endless stream of Synth’s pouring out of the ruins.

‘Time to stem the flow,’ Hellen said at last and looked over to Ronnie. ‘Throw a few shells into South Boston.’

‘About time,’ she answered and sent a runner to tell all five of the gun crews to get ready.

‘Order Preston to pull off the barricades and the bunkhouse,’ she ordered another runner.

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Prepare to provide suppressing fire!’ she shouted to the men on top of the blockhouse and the walls. ‘At my word bring the turrets online.’

Only moments later the artillery started firing into the ruins of South Boston, great clouds of flame and smoke rising up into the sky with each shell and massive pieces of debris were thrown about, half a car even crashed into a group of Gen 2’s. Five shells were fired from each gun and she knew they must have caused Hell for the Synths in the ruins. Seconds later, Preston and his men began to pull back from the barricades while the medics carried away the wounded men. Curie and Preston were the last two back into the blockhouse and the safety of the walls. Hellen heard the heavy door slam shut and the magnetic bolts locked into place and then she looked back to the barricades. The Gen 2’s were starting to clamber over it while her troops were firing away. As each reached the top of the barricades they were shot down but their numbers were so great that some eventually climbed over and blasted the lock off the chain linked gate. What followed was a sea of white clad Gen 2’s rushing through the gateway, blasting lasers as they did so and Hellen gave the order.

‘Turrets!’

Each turret, ten of them on that wall, began firing madly, spitting bullets into the mass of Synths and smashing about a dozen of them in seconds. More and more Minutemen also mounted the walls and they joined their comrades in the gunfight, machineguns on full blast as well while others were bringing up wooden crates into position, each one labelled “Grenades”.

While most of the Gen 2’s were firing up at the walls others were rigging explosives to the barricades. Hellen brought her rifle up to her shoulder and started firing short bursts at the Synths, her powerful 45 Calibre rounds cracking apart the breast plate of her first target and sending sparks flying everywhere. Next to her, Piper and Cait were firing down at the Synths, the former with a semi-automatic rifle and the other with a 44 calibre revolver. With their vantage point on the walls of the Castle and the lack of cover for the Synths, the advantage was with the Minutemen who were blasting Synth after Synth as they rushed the walls.

‘Bastards are just standing there asking for it!’ laughed Cait.

‘Less talk more shooting,’ Hellen reminded her as she too out another Synth.

Preston joined her on the block house and began shooting with his laser musket and the pile of destroyed Gen 2’s grew by the second until at last, silently, the Synth’s turned and began to retreat.

‘Cease fire!’ Hellen shouted and every officer repeated her until, at last, silence reigned control again.

It was getting dark, the sun setting as Hellen looked out across the field of destruction before the Castle, the only noises coming from the wounded within the walls. Hellen just watched, looking for any movement and for a moment she thought it was over, that the Institute had given up. Of course, she was wrong, from out of the ruins emerged more Synths but she soon realised they were not Gen 1’s or 2’s. They were moving like Humans and even though they wore full face helmets and armour, it was clear they were Gen 3’s. Some of them were carrying ladders and amongst them were Coursers.

The Gen 3 troopers were forming up, ready to make their attack and Hellen almost wept for those poor people, forced to fight in this war. Slaves.

‘Remind the men,’ she said to Preston, ‘remind the men that the Human looking Synths are slave soldiers. If they surrender, we accept it.’

‘Very well,’ he said and sent someone to pass on the message.

One of the Coursers shouted something and the Gen 3’s began their attack, silent like the ones before, but as they ran they did so with less order.

‘Fire at will!’ Hellen shouted.

Her men opened up on the enemy, bullets and lasers flying while the Synths crouched behind the wrecked forms of their mechanical companions and returned fire. Their marksmanship was exceptional, and several Minutemen went down quickly. Hellen aimed at one of the Synths wielding a sniper laser rifle and pulled the trigger. Five rounds tore out of the weapon and struck the Synth, the troopers weak white armour shattering apart and artificial blood sprayed out of their body. The Synth fell dead and Hellen felt every shot. They were made from her blood, from her sons DNA, and now she was killing them.

Hellen grabbed a grenade from the box nearby and threw it at the Synths, a few seconds past, a group of Synths which were huddled tightly together were caught in the blast, being thrown to the ground and one of them had her leg blasted off.

…

Mayor Jane Peterson of Spectacle Island was a tall woman of fifty years with iron grey hair and a deeply lined face. She had spent her whole life on the move, her parents were caravaners and she was born in California only to travel across America growing up. Her earliest memories were travelling through the lands of the Legion but they were vague. They were always on the move, never staying anywhere for long. By the time she reached the East Coast a decade before, she was getting older and her parents were dead. It was time to settle down but she never founds anywhere she liked, until she reached the Commonwealth. She met a group of other drifters, wanting to find somewhere to settle down and they met General Grant who offered them Spectacle Island. In the seven months since then they had become a prosperous little village, a group of houses clustered around the ruins on the southern tip of the island and the size of the island gave them a massive amount of land for growing huge fields of Tato’s and Mutfruit. Most of it went straight to the Castle, a gesture of thanks for all the Minutemen had done for them.

Now Jane was helpless as she watched the Castle fall under siege. She had spent most of the night at the towns bar, “The General’s Arms” where they had set up a shelter for the people from the Castle. They were having the evening meal and Emma, one of the locals who had the voice of an angel, was keeping the children entertained, and Jane stood at the docks, looking towards the castle. She could hear the gunfire and see the bright blue flashes of the Institute’s guns and occasionally the great clouds of flame from the artillery. It was an almost beautiful image, the grey stone walls shining with the flashes in the darkness.

‘Jane,’ said Thomas, one of her friends in the village.

‘Any word?’ she asked him.

‘Only that the attack is heavy.’

‘Do they want us to use our artillery to support them?’

‘No. General Grant says it will draw too much attention.’

‘Our troops are over there.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ said Thomas. ‘Your son will be fine, my girl will be fine.’

‘I hate being mayor sometimes, staying here while the youngsters do the fighting.’

‘Me too. I want to be there, but my leg won’t let me.’

He shrugged and sighed deeply, his long life showing.

‘See you later hon.’

Thomas left Jane at the docks as she watched the bizarre light show at the Castle, praying everyone would come home.


	4. Chapter Four

The Siege

Chapter Four

‘Ladders!’ Hellen shouted.

The Synths were excellent shots but everything else so far made it clear how green they were. They stayed close together so a single grenade or Molotov Cocktail could kill a group of them. More than that, though there wasn’t much cover, the Synths took no advantage of any of it.

Hellen shot another one and the Synth fell to the ground, a bullet in its side and blood staining its once immaculate uniform. The Synth let out a high pitched scream, a woman’s scream and began to crawl away, leaving a trail of blood behind her. Hellen barely noticed, more focused on the Synths rushing towards the blockhouse wall carrying ladders. The ladders were white and with hooks at the top to grab onto the walls.

Hellen shot one of the Synths carrying a ladder and he fell dead but his compatriots kept coming and soon the ladders were hooked onto the top of the blockhouse. Hellen and her troops leaned over to start shooting them as they came up the ladders but a volley of shots from Synths further back served to force them back away from the edge.

‘Let the Synths come up,’ Hellen ordered. ‘Shoot them when they reach the top of the ladders.’

Hellen aimed at one ladder and when one helmeted head appeared she opened fire. Her bullets dented the surface but one shattered the tinted plastic eye slit and the Synth grunted, blood rushing out from the bottom of the helmet as he fell. The same happened a few more times until for a full minute there was no movement from the ladders, though men on the higher walls on either side of the blockhouse still traded fire with the Synths. Hellen was about to return to the edge of the building to continue firing when over a dozen small cylinders flew up from below and landed in front of Hellen and her troops.

‘Grenades!’ Preston shouted and everyone except Hellen ducked, she knew what they were, Relay Grandes.

A dozen bright blue flashes filled the air, a dozen Gen 1 Synths appeared before them and started firing. Preston was hit in the arm and he grunted in pain, a pair of Minutemen were shot and killed While two lasers struck Helen’s breast plate but did no real harm. Hellen started shooting and blew apart a Gen 1. The Gen 1’s raced forwards and drew their batons. Hellen had to drop her rifle and drew her combat knife from her belt, parried a blow and plunged the blade into a group of wires and pipes in the Synths neck. There were more flashes as more relay grenades were thrown and more Gen 1’s appeared, grappling with the Minutemen on the blockhouse who were fending them off, but more Gen 3’s were clambering up the ladders and were also entering the brawl. One dropped her laser rifle and drew a baton, aiming a swing at Nick who easily parried the blow and punched the Synth in the neck while Hellen finished her off with a shot from Deliverer.

‘Their moves are taken straight from police training manuals,’ Nick told her.

‘Great,’ Hellen answered, not knowing what else to say as a Synth shot at her but she dodged the laser and fired five rounds from Deliverer, killing the Gen 3.

That was when the blockhouse shook from an explosion below and Hellen looked down, wondering what it was. The sounds of firing and fighting inside the blockhouse answered her question, the Synth’s had blasted through the door.

‘Get to the ground!’ Hellen shouted, not wanting to be trapped on the roof of the blockhouse.

Hellen and Nick were the last two down the wooden stairs leading to the courtyard. The Gen 3’s and Gen 1’s on the roof followed them but they were driven back by fire from a platoon of Minutemen in the courtyard, amongst them was Blake and Lucy, standing side by side as they fired away. The inside door of the blockhouse was thrown open and three Minutemen, all wounded and bleeding badly, rushed through them. The last one out jerked violently as a bright blue laser cut into his back. The man fell down the steps and a group strode through the doors, all clad in black coats and brandishing laser rifles. They charged forwards, firing lasers as a horde of Synths, Gen 2’s and 3’s followed them.

‘By the People!’ Hancock, with his men, shouted.

‘For the People!’ they answered and charged forwards to meet them, Tommy Guns blazing.

‘Bayonets!’ Helen shouted and drew Kellogg’s revolver, leading the Minutemen in a charge against the Synths who were pouring in through the blockhouse.

…

G9-03 whimpered as she finally reached the stone wall of the Castle. She could barely breath through her heavy helmet as she pushed herself up off the ground and propped up against the wall. Still struggling to get a decent gasp of air, G9 unfastened the buckles of her helmet and let it fall off her head, the plastic and metal clattering against some stones. G9 resembled a woman in her early twenties with brown hair in a standard Institute regulation ponytail. Looking down at her wound she almost threw up. The bullets had shattered her breast plate and one round had hit her in her left side, the side now turned red with her own blood. Carefully she reached for the pouch on her leg holding a very basic first aid kit held in a flimsy plastic box. First she pulled out the antiseptic fluids and poured it onto a cloth, wiping the wounds as she tried to fight back the gasps of pain, tears running down her face.

 _What am I doing here?_ She thought in an act to fight the physical pain.

She had been a cleaning unit all her life, mopping the floors of Bio Science, until a month ago she was ordered to report to SRB. For an hour she was horrified, fearing her mind would be wiped, only to learn she, and most of the Gen 3’s, would be added to the ranks of the Institute Armed Forces. For a month she and the others had visited the firing ranges every day until they were all good shots and had basic hand to hand training. Battle was nothing like that. The screaming, the blood, oh good God above the blood.

Satisfied the wound was cleaned, G9 pulled the field dressing from the first aid kit and held it securely over the wound, letting out a shrill gasp of pain as she secured it around her body. The Gen 3 rested her head against the stone wall and looked over to the others rushing through the gate. The others rushed in as fast as they could laser rifles blasting away through the cold night air well up on the walls the minute men kept firing with that crude but highly effective Bolt action rifles and cobbled together laser muskets.

What am I doing here? She asked herself. The sky above was clear, millions of stars covering the deep blackness above her, a mournful moon casting its gaze down to the carnage. She truly wished she was alone, that she could find rest after a whole life spent as a slave and she realised she was about to die a slave.

There were no more tears to shed. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

…

Hellen had lost track of time in the carnage. She was out of ammo for all her pistols and hadn’t had the time to reload her shotgun which she resorted to using as a club in the melee. She swung the butt into the chest of a Gen 2 and began smashing the weapon down into its chest three times until it stopped moving. The whole courtyard of the Castle was one gigantic brawl, no lines, just a swirling sea of fists, knives and batons. There was no space or time to reload, only time to fight. The Synths on the roof of the blockhouse were shooting down into the mass but Minutemen on higher ground on the actual walls were also firing. It was a battle of endurance now, the Minutemen had to hold or they would all die.

Hellen was attacked by a Gen 3 and they grappled over the gun until a sharp shooter struck the Synth in the neck. He fell to the ground, twitching as he struggled to breathe. Hellen rushed over the body and onto the stone stairs leading onto the walls. Rushing up them she reloaded her shotgun and once reaching the top she stopped to catch her breath. With her vantage point now she found it easier to work out what was going on. The courtyard was a battleground and it looked like the brawl was going on inside the walls as well. She rushed along the wall, past her men who were taking shots at the Synths while she looked down at her soldiers skill on display. The Synths clearly had some combat training but in a hand to hand fight against the Minutemen, men and women who had spent their lives wrestling brahmin into pens, getting into bar fights and doing hard farm work every day, they were at a disadvantage. Savage punches and kicks pummeled the Synths into ground. Near one of the arches into the walls a pair of Minutemen were holding a Courser against a wall while Hancock and Cait took turns whackig him with baseball bats. Macready was serving as a sniper and destroyed another Gen 2, grinning madly while he fired away and Codsworth used his saw to cut off the head of a Gen 3.

Hellen reached the spot on the wall over the main gates where twenty of her men were firing down outside under the command of Ronnie.

‘Situation?’ Hellen asked her.

‘Synths on the causeway ma’am,’ she answered. ‘Fifty of them.’

‘What type?’

‘The robot ones and a few in black.’

‘Okay. Keep up the fire against them.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much. I reckon it’s a feint.’

‘I’m not taking the risk. Keep up the fire.’

‘Very well,’ she answered and started firing her laser musket down outside.

Hellen looked over the Gatehouse, the bar, now field hospital, had its door shut tight but through the small windows she could see movement. When the enemy poured through the blockhouse, Curie had dragged a wounded woman to the Gatehouse with most of the medics and got to work saving lives. A wounded Minuteman staggered to the door and pounded on the door, gripping the bloodied burn on his chest. It opened and Curie emerged, letting him in and then slamming shut the door. Curie’s arms were bloody and she wore an apron over her uniform, it was also blood stained and her face showed how tired she was. She carried on her duty though, she would take care of the wounded no matter what. Back at the blockhouse, Hellen spotted a new group of Coursers march through the door and her heart dropped at the sight of their leader. X6-88. He was leading half a dozen Courser’s into the brawl, all of them wielding batons as they began beating their way through the crowds.

‘Focus fire on the Coursers!’ Hellen shouted as she and her old companion from the Institute locked eyes and he began to make a line straight for the stairs, fighting his way through the Minutemen.

Helen knew what was going to happen, she would have to fight him. She knew what type of a man X6 was, ruthless, merciless. Yet he had saved her life more than once while she was undercover in the Institute and she had saved his and she could respect his dedication and skill. Now they were truly enemies and they would have to fight. Hellen checked her knife and readied her shotgun. There were a few men on the stairs firing down into the brawl and as Hellen reached the top of them, while X6 was still on the ground, to find Blake with a rifle fighting at the top of the steps.

‘Blake,’ she said to him. ‘Where’s your girl?’

‘Inside the walls I think,’ he answered, his fear obvious to all.

‘Damn. See those Coursers?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Their leader is coming for me. I’ll deal with him.’

‘Okay General,’ he answered and aimed back down, shooting at a Courser and striking her between the eyes.

‘Nice shot.’

‘Thanks.’

X6 reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up at Hellen.

‘By the order of Father you must die,’ he said in his monotone but there was a slight hint of rage beneath it.

‘Come and get me then you bastard,’ she cursed and aimed her shotgun, firing off both barrels at him.

The cloud of pellets smashed into his reinforced coat and though he grunted, he advanced up the steps. Hellen drew her knife and got ready to fight him. When he reached the top he swung his baton and Hellen stepped back, dodging each blow until she thrust at him, just managing to scratch his right cheek before she jumped back and dodged another blow, missing her head by less than an inch. They traded blows while running along the top of the wall, baton against knife, and Hellen took a few hard blows, though her armour protected her.

‘You betrayed us,’ he at last hissed.

‘You’ve betrayed your own kind. You like wearing a collar and forcing it on others.’

‘I am not a man, neither are my troops. I am a Synth and I would have served you forever.’

‘No. You are a man, a man who I wish could live free, but for the sake of the Commonwealth, it’s time for you to fucking die.’

She thrust with her knife and when he parried it Hellen struck again quickly, smashing her fist into the side of X6’s face. Something beneath the skin of the Synth broke and X6 grunted. Hellen’s brief moment of triumph was shattered as X6 grabbed her wrist and pulled hard, throwing Hellen over his shoulder and sending her onto the grass of the wall. She hissed and tried to push herself up but X6 was on her in seconds, his gloved hands wrapped around her neck as he started to squeeze. Finally Hellen saw something in his normally blank, emotionless face, a smile. He was enjoying this and Hellen tried to get him off her but he was too strong.

X6 suddenly shouted short and sharp in pain and let go, backing off her and Hellen saw what happened. Blake. He had saved her, rushing forward with his bayonet fitted rifle, stabbing X6 in his side and he fired a shot, knocking the Synth back. Hellen pushed herself up as Blake thrust his bayonet again but X6 grabbed the barrel of the rifle and threw it out of Blake’s hands. Hellen ran towards them but X6 was too quick, grappling with Blake and locking his arm around the mans neck. With a sudden, ruthless twist and snap, he broke Blake’s neck, the farmers lifeless body falling to the ground and all Hellen could see was red.

With a savage scream she jumped forwards and tackled X6, pummelling him again and again in the wound in his side, his blood staining her fist while he tried to stay standing with the pain coursing through him. Hellen threw herself against him with just enough force to throw him over the edge of the wall and into the courtyard. With a sickening crunch he landed on a pile of masonry left over from the repairs and when Hellen looked down, he wasn’t moving and was posed in an unnatural position. Nearby Gen 3’s who saw him fall and then looked up at Hellen. Sure for a moment that they were about to shoot, Hellen was about to back away when, to her surprise, the Synths began to run away from the Coursers body, shoving their way past other Synths to reach the blockhouse door.


	5. Chapter Five

The Siege

Chapter Five

‘Who’s in command now?’ asked Father as the live footage from a Synth crow resting on the radio tower showed X6 fall to his death.

‘Erm,’ answered Ayo, sweat running down his face. ‘X5-32 I think. Never mind she’s dead already. Ah, there we are, X1-99.’

A few moments passed in SRB while Li was growing more and more angry. Hundreds of Synths had been either killed or destroyed, weapons had been smashed and resources had been wasted on this mission and there was no sign of the Minutemen giving up. She looked at one of the screens, at Hellen reloading her newly acquired rifle and walking towards the wall to begin firing into the courtyard. She had killed X6-88, one of the most efficient and ruthless Coursers, and was continuing the fight.

‘I can’t reach him,’ Ayo told them.

‘We need to withdraw,’ said Doctor Binet. ‘At this rate we may win the battle but it will take months to rebuild a fighting force.’

‘We will not be beaten by those armed thugs,’ Father silenced him.

‘We are almost out of reserves and practically all of the Gen 2’s are down. We need to stop this now.’

‘No!’ Father growled and Li actually stepped back in fear.

He was a man who never shouted. He’d raise his voice at times, but shouting was almost a complete unknown to Shaun.

‘I’ve got him.’

They looked to the screen and instead of the face of the Courser they saw a young woman with black hair.

 _‘Hey there,’_ she said and raised a pistol, firing three shots past the view of the comms unit. _‘I’m Piper Wright, Publik Occurrences. If this is the Institute I’d like to apologise for killing your Courser, but would you consider an interview?’_

‘Turn it off,’ Father snapped at Ayo and the screen went dead. ‘Find another Courser.’

‘X2-09,’ Ayo said and almost at once the screen showed a Synth who judging by the view from the camera was crouching behind a boulder.

 _‘Sir, I believe that X6-88 is dead,’_ he said.

‘We know,’ Father told him. ‘You are the most senior Courser left. You have command.’

_‘Sir, I’d like to recommend that we withdraw to South Boston Military Checkpoint and fortify it until we can make a further attack.’_

‘There will be no retreat,’ Father told him. ‘Continue the attack.’

_‘That may not be possible sir. The Gen 3’s are already retreating.’_

‘What?’ Ayo asked.

_‘The Gen 3 Synth Units are retreating. Courser units at the Minutemen’s outer barricades are forming them up again now. How shall we proceed?’_

‘Get them back in the fight,’ Father ordered. ‘Any Gen 3 who attempts to retreat past the barricades is to be shot.’

_‘Understood sir. X2-09 out.’_

The silence in SRB was unbreakable as everyone looked at each other, stunned that they may be losing the battle. Ayo was the first to speak.

‘It appears the Minutemen are driving us out of Fort Independence.’

‘Shaun,’ Binet spoke up, his face turning red, ‘we need to end this madness. We can’t just shoot our own,’ he stopped for a moment, ‘Synths.’

Li knew he was going to say people and if he did he would have been in serious trouble. She was glad he caught himself in time.

‘We can prevent our property from going missing,’ he answered. ‘The assault will continue.’

…

G9-03’s eyes opened again and felt like Hell. The pain in her side was no longer as bad as it was but had turned into a horrible, throbbing aching. Her vision was blurry making what she saw a strange, surreal portrait of blue lights across a dark field. The hard stone wall against her head made for a poor pillow and she wiped her eyes clear to reveal what was happening. Her fellow Synths were running away from the walls of the fortress, through the blockhouse door and back to the collapsed barricades.

‘Help,’ she whimpered. ‘Help!’ she shouted and a pair of Synths spotted her.

The two helmeted Synths ran towards her, one of them firing up at the wall as they went. At last they reached her and grabbed her under each arm, dragging her away from the wall along the rough ground, she whimpered the whole way, before they reached the barricades and hauled her behind it, leaving her on the ground with some cover.

‘Unit,’ a Courser said and looked down at her with that emotionless glare, ‘where is your helmet and weapon?’

‘I, I don’t know.’

‘You will recover the Institute property after this battle is over unit.’

He then walked away and G9 sighed in relief at not having to deal with them anymore.

‘We need to retreat!’ one of the other Gen 3’s shouted.

‘Stand your ground unit,’ a Courser warned him.

Further along the barricade a pair of Gen 3’s started running away but the Coursers raised their lasers and started firing. Both Synths were killed as the lasers sliced through them and G9 had to look away. The Coursers formed a line behind the hundred or so Synths on the barricades and aimed their weapons at them, G9 included.

‘Keep firing or you will be disposed of,’ one of them ordered and the closest Courser to G9 pointed to a discarded pistol nearby.

She reached for it and rolled onto her size, yelping in pain, and grabbed the gun, crawled over the assembled rubbish of the barricade and started shooting up at the wall.

…

Hellen was back in the courtyard and fighting with Blake’s rifle, leading the charge back to the blockhouse where the Synth’s were bottlenecked trying to escape through the narrow door.

‘Take them prisoner!’ Hellen shouted above the noise of battle as they reached the Synths and her men began to grapple them to the ground, seizing their weapons and dragging them away to the prisoner pen.

Some Synths fought back and were killed while a few threw down their rifles and held up their hands. Hellen was the first through the doorway and watched as the last few Synths got out. She wanted to follow them but decided against it. She turned back to her men, ignoring the dead Synths and Minutemen on the floor and issued orders.

‘Barricade this doorway.’

She went back outside and saw the carnage, many of her men were wounded or dead on the ground but Curie was back outside and with her medics they were tending to the wounded Minutemen. When Curie crouched next to a Courser who barely breathing and she began to try and extract a bullet in his back she earned some disgusted looks from her troops which she ignored.

‘Stay still,’ she told the Courser.

‘Remove your hands from Institute property!’ he growled and spun around, trying to grab Curie.

Hellen was quick and fired a shot, hitting the Courser in the neck and killing him before he could harm Curie. She in turn looked down at the dead Synth and sighed, shaking her head before moving on to another wounded man. Her troops, led by Preston whose arm injury was clearly still causing him pain, had retaken the roof of the blockhouse and were trading fire with the Synths outside while the men over the main gates were still in a firefight with the Synths on the causeway.

‘Hancock!’ Hellen called over to the Ghoul.

‘What’s up?’ he asked, clearly tired but still ready to fight.

‘I need you to drive the Synths off the causeway. Take fifty men, I’ll organise covering fire.’

‘Sure thing boss.’

‘Are any of the troops from your town still standing?’

‘Three,’ he mournfully told her. ‘They knew they might not come back from this but, fucking war.’

‘I’m sorry Hancock.’

‘We can remember them later. We’ve got a battle to win.’

‘Rally your troops and get ready to kick some asses.’

‘Will do.’

Hellen went back onto the walls, up the wooden steps built up the slope of rubble and reached the area over the gates where her men were continuing the firefight.

‘Where’s Colonel Shaw?’ she asked the men there and one of them, a local named Jay, pointed further along the wall to where a body lay.

Hellen rushed over to her and saw Ronnie, dead, her glassy eyes open and looking up to the sky, her laser musket still held in a limp grip and burns in her fatigues from half a dozen laser blasts. She crouched down next to Ronnie and took a moment, looking at the old veteran, dying defending the Castle.

‘We’re ready!’ Hancock shouted up from the Gatehouse.

‘Okay!’ Hellen responded and gave orders to her men on the wall. ‘We’re driving those bastards off the causeway. On my signal, provide suppressing fire.’

They responded with a number of “yes ma’am’s”.

‘Fire!’ she ordered and they started firing as fast as they could, some throwing grenades as well.

The Gen 2’s and Coursers there took heavy casualties as they were shot back from the walls. A group of Gen 2’s and one Courser were laying dead on the slope of rubble outside of the Castle and the others had been driven back a distance, using boulders as cover.

‘Hancock!’ Hellen shouted and below she could just make out the noise of the shutters rolling up below.

‘BY THE PEOPLE!’ he shouted and led the troops out through the gates, the bayonet charge of Minutemen racing forwards, firing their rifles as fast as they could and soon engaged the Synths in hand to hand combat.

The Gen 2’s were easily brought down and even the Coursers were soon overwhelmed by the advancing Minutemen. As soon as they were all destroyed, Hancock led his men back into the Castle, cheering and hollering. One of them was Lucy Abernathy, smiling and laughing at the success of their attack, Hellen realised she probably didn’t know about her father yet. Hellen remained focused on the battle and rushed across the courtyard towards the blockhouse and joined the troops there shooting down at the Synths. Dozens of Synths were crouching behind what was once the barricade, now just a pile of debris, and firing up at the walls while behind them, illuminated in the flashes of blue laser fire, was a line of Coursers, their pistols aimed at their own troops.

‘Hold fire!’ Hellen shouted and only a few heard her. ‘Hold your fire!’

This time her men stopped firing and others deactivated the turrets. A few seconds passed and then the Synths stopped firing, she heard a Courser shout the command. Hellen stepped up to the rampart and held her hand in the air.

‘Synths! Your whole lives have been lived in chains! How many of you want to be here? Break your own chains now and you will be treated with mercy. Surrender and your lives will be spared. The Institute thinks you are nothing but machines, you are men and women and from the moment you took your first breath you were granted the right to live in freedom! Please, lay down your arms.’

The silence lasted for only a moment, a Courser began shooting at her but Hellen jumped away. The volleys from the Synths were very light, few were shooting. Hellen smiled and prayed it had worked.

…

 _Grandmother_ , G9 realised, looking up at the figure standing on the blockhouse. Her words rang through the smoky air and entranced her. The Coursers began shooting but G9 spotted Grandmother get out of the way just in time. All the Coursers were shooting up at the Minutemen as were a few of the other Gen 3’s but most were not.

 _Break your chains_ , G9 thought to herself and rolled onto her back, aiming her pistol at the closest Courser. She pulled the trigger and three lasers tore into the chest and face of the Courser, throwing him backwards and crashing into the ground. G9 closed her eyes, she expected for the last time, expecting the Coursers to vaporise her. Seconds passed and shooting started but she still lived. Her eyes snapped open to reveal almost all of her fellow Synths firing away at the Coursers. Others had piled onto some of them and were beating them with rifle butts and batons. Some of the Coursers and a few Gen 3 troopers began to run away towards the ruins of South Boston but the Minutemen on the walls shot at them, killing a few.

Mad spurts of laughter tore out of G9’s throat, looking towards the fleeing Coursers who soon vanished into the darkness. The gunfire died to silence again and so many thoughts danced in her head. She was free, she wouldn’t be going back to the Institute, she was trapped n the surface, she was free.

‘I am free,’ she whispered as she heard dozens of pairs of boots thudding towards her.

…

Looking around SRB, all Madison Li could see were stunned faces. Their jaws were hanging open and no one wanted to be the first to speak of what had just happened. They had lost the battle. The might of the Institute’s Synths, Coursers, lasers and relay had been crushed by a mob of farmers, merchants, part timers and a lawyer. Worse, the Synths had betrayed them, firing on the Coursers. Father’s eyes were fixed on the screen showing his mother, walking down off the blockhouse and formed a squad of her troops together. Father was the first to speak.

‘We will hold an emergency Directorate Meeting at sixteen hundred hours,’ he said to them, his voice frighteningly calm. ‘Doctor Binet, you will prepare a plan for rebuilding our fighting force, Doctor Ayo, you will count all surviving Coursers and begin rebuilding their numbers. Doctor Li, investigate improving our firepower.’

Everyone agreed and quickly left, Li wanting to go to bed more than anything but decided to stay up to start looking into the deficiencies in their weapons. She’d probably get to bed at around three, but as she walked through the mostly empty halls of the Institute, past a few cleaning Synths, Li started to wonder if she really was on the right side of this war.

…

Hellen led a dozen of her Minutemen out of the blockhouse and towards the barricades where the Synths were standing still or laying on the rubble. The ones who were not wearing helmets looked stunned, shocked at what they had just done, killing the Coursers. Hellen reached them and raised Deliverer at them.

‘Drop the weapons,’ she ordered.

At once they began throwing their lasers down onto the ground and all started taking off their helmets.

‘Okay everyone, stand against the Castle walls.’

‘We have wounded,’ one Synth spoke up.

‘So do we,’ one of the Minutemen, Isaac, told him with a glare.

‘Enough,’ Hellen shut up her trooper. ‘Go get Colonel Curie and some medics.’

‘But what about our men?’

‘We take care of our prisoners and unless you’re blind, they just won us the battle. Get Colonel Curie.’

He was clearly not happy about it but followed his orders, jogging up to the Castle again while Hellen supervised the walking prisoners.

…

G9-03 was carried off the rubble by a pair of the Minutemen and placed on the ground. She looked over to the other Synths, lined up against the wall with their hands in the air while a group of Minutemen were aiming their rifles at them. G9 tried to move but the splitting pain in her side made her scream in pain, but a second past before a gentle hand touched her shoulder.

‘It’s alright Madame. Don’t move. Breathe slowly.’

The figure with the strange, music like accent, crouched by her began to remove the field dressings and her expression was grave. She had a kind face and short black hair, wearing simple clothes and bloodied apron. She reached into her leather satchel and pulled out a short stick wrapped in thick cloth and held it over G9’s mouth.

‘Bite onto this.’

G9 did so and studied the face of this medic who called over a pair of men.

‘There’s a bullet inside this woman and I need it out. You two, lay down on her and stop her moving.’

‘What about anaesthetic?’ asked one.

‘I’m saving it for the most seriously injured.’

The two men laid down over G9, one on her legs and one on her chest and arms while the doctor cut through some of her uniform around the wound and readied her tools.

‘Three, two, one,’ the doctor said and pure blinding pain tore through G9.

Each second felt like hours while she screamed and tried to writhe but the men kept her in place. Finally she felt something moving out of the wound and the doctor said “yes” quietly.

‘There’s fabric in the wound. I’ll have to go back in.’

G9 sobbed in despair of having to go through that again but bit hard into the stick and cloth, almost hurting her teeth while the doctor dealt with her wound. At last it finished and the doctor removed the stick.

‘Alright Madame, I just need to stitch the would and we’ll get you some rest and something to drink.’

‘Th, th, th, thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

She truly looked at the doctor for a few moments and then was shocked that she knew the face.

‘G5-19, it’s you. I knew you’d be alright out here, I knew it.’

‘Madame, my name is Curie, now don’t talk so much, you’ll be tired out.’

‘But it’s you. I remember when you got out, I was so happy.’

‘I’ll explain everything later.’

The wound was soon stitched up and some Minutemen helped G9 onto a stretcher before taking her into Fort Independence. Before going through the wrecked door of the blockhouse she looked over to the other Synths, removing their body armour and throwing them onto piles.


	6. Chapter SIx

The Siege

Chapter Six

At just after noon the following day, Hellen walked through the halls of the castle. Thick curtains hung over the arches leading to the courtyard and the only light came from the yellowish, sometimes flickering light bulbs. Along the walls were beds set up where wounded Minutemen and Gen 3’s were laying down, recovering from their wounds. She passed a young man named Timmy, from Diamond City originally but had been one of the first to set up the settlement at Murkwater. Timmy had taken six shots to his chest, most of which had done little damage against his leather chest piece but one had got him on the collar bone, knocking him out of the fight.

‘How is he?’ she asked the medic checking him.

‘He’ll recover,’ she whispered, not wanting to wake him up. ‘A weeks rest and a stimpack will see him fine.’

‘Good.’

‘He got off lightly.’

‘The Synths?’

‘Physically they’re mostly in good shape General, but oh God, the way they look at me, the way they follow orders, there’s just something wrong with them.’

‘They spent their whole lives as slaves. Last night was the first time most of them thought for themselves. How many Synths are still recovering?’

‘Nine, three died in the night, the rest are in the holding cell.’

‘I see. Carry on.’

Hellen pushed aside some of the curtains and walked into the courtyard where she saw her men cleaning up from the battle. Hundreds of the Gen 1’s and 2’s shattered forms were piled up near the radio hut, next to them were pieces of armour piled up, chest pieces, arm and leg armour all in their own piles as were the helmets. First she went to the armoury where the new Colonel Quarter Master, Howard Longman, was supervising the sort through of the Synth’s weapons.

‘How’s the work going?’

‘Almost done, but to be honest I think we’re wasting time.’

‘How so?’

‘Look at these things. Synth rifles and pistols are all weaker than pre war lasers and firearms, the only weapons worse than them are pipe guns.’

‘Bulky as well,’ Hellen agreed, picking up an Institute rifle. ‘This thing is useless in hand to hand fighting.’

‘One of the reasons we won.’

‘Yes. What would you recommend we do with them?’

‘Send them to Starlight Drive in and have them stripped for parts. Plenty of plastic and some useful components. The batons though, I say we issue them to the troops, they’re a pretty good backup weapon.

‘I’ll let you know by the end of the day. Keep them secure for now.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

It was somewhat satisfying that the comparatively crude bolt action rifles and heavy machineguns of the Minutemen were able to defeat the advanced tech of the Institute. She past the Gatehouse where Curie was sitting outside on a bench fast asleep, her uniform still bloodied after a night of hard work. Hellen didn’t wake her up as she went past and through the gate to the other side where some men were busy digging a large mass grave, the dead were laid out beneath sheets alongside the grave. The Synths were grouped together and her Minutemen, her sixty seven men who fell in the cause of liberty, were together. Each body was, of course, covered by a sheet, tough on the chest of each soldier was their slouch hat or tricorn. The exception to this was the body with the black beret resting on it. Ronnie was a tough fighter, a brave leader and an excellent drill instructor. Lucy Abernath was sitting by one of the covered forms, sobbing by her fathers body.

Hellen shook her head and went back inside, as she did so, her gaze turned to the crows sitting on the radio tower. Synth spies probably and she couldn’t resist but give them the finger, hoping that Shaun was watching. Just then the bugle was blown at the watch tower on the causeway, though it was for a friendly. Hellen marched back through the gates and spotted three people making their way up the narrow strip of land over the water. With her pocket telescope Hellen soon realised who they were and gladly welcomed them.

‘Pastor,’ she said and shook the hand of Pastor Clements, the other two with him were guards from Diamond City.

‘General, I’m glad to see you’re unhurt. Your speeches on the radio last night, they were inspiring.’

‘Thank you, Pastor.’

‘The chapel was packed last night, so many we set up radios in the street and had everyone outside.’

‘Really?’ Hellen asked, thinking about this.

‘Yes. The whole Commonwealth was listening. This morning there was a party in Diamond City, still going by the time we left.’

‘Good. Why did you come?’

‘You lost people, I thought it would be proper to come and help with the burials.’

‘Thank you, Pastor,’ she was glad he was being so generous to come all this way.

‘No thanks are needed, I’m just happy to do my duty.’

Their conversation was cut short by the sounds of a vertibird coming closer. While their truce with the Brotherhood was still strong, one of their approaching aircraft still got people worried. Hellen looked at the Pastar at once.

‘Get in the Castle,’ and then to the troops on the docks. ‘Stand to!’

At once everyone was hurrying around, getting to their positions as Hellen looked to the north and spotted the single aircraft approaching from the Prydwen. It flew around the Castle and landed on the pathway, at once dozens of rifles were aimed at the vehicle as its occupants climbed out. Two were wearing power armour and their leader wore a distinctive long leather coat. Hellen remained at her place by the gates, allowing Elder Maxson, Paladin Danse and the other Knight approach her.

‘Hold!’ Hellen ordered them.

‘General Grant,’ Maxson said politely, though with the usual military crispness.

‘State your business here.’

‘I need to speak with you.’

‘Talk then.’

‘You aren’t usually this hostile.’

‘I don’t usually spend half the night fighting for my life against an army of Synths trying to take my home.’

‘Yes the battle, you fought well.’

‘So you were watching.’

‘We were, and now we’re here to honour your dead. They fought well, worthy of any member of the Brotherhood.’

‘That’s true, and the actual members of the Brotherhood did nothing to help us. Sixty seven of my men were killed while you sat on your balloon polishing your armour.’

‘Hellen,’ Danse now stepped forwards. ‘We came here to pay respects to your fallen.’

She looked at the figures before her before she at last nodded.

‘Okay, you can come in,’ and then to her troops on the walls. ‘Stand down!’

Hellen didn’t want to talk to them really so she went back to her office, leaving Preston, a bandage wrapped around his arm, to deal with them, him and Danse shaking hands, tersely but with respect.

…

G9-03 sat against the wall of the packed room she had been taken to after her treatment was done. It still hurt but not having a bullet in her side anymore was a blessing. Around her were the other Synths who had surrendered, all of them just waiting. Earlier in the day some of the Minutemen had come in and passed around plates of strange food which they all ate anyway. After that they had been mostly left alone. Eventually they heard Grandmother’s voice through the large microphones outside speaking of the sorrow she felt for the dead and made a moving speech, declaring that all who had fought that day were now brothers and sisters. After that there were five volleys of shots which made many of the Synths worry.

An hour passed after that when the wooden doors of the room opened and two people entered, one being a woman with black hair and the other an old Gen 2 which was missing a lot of its fake skin and wore a hat a long coat.

‘Okay,’ the woman said to them, ‘my name is Piper. General Grant wants one of you to be chosen to speak for all the others. You have an hour to decide who that is and what you want.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked a male Synth.

‘The General does not want to harm you but you can’t stay in this room forever. She’ll explain everything to your spokesman.’

Piper and the Gen 2 then left, leaving the Synths behind and when the doors closed the discussions started.

…

Hellen leaned back in her chair and let out a long, slow breath. She had almost forgotten how much fun it was to have a real argument, almost bringing her back to the old days in courtrooms. After the funeral, Maxson had approached her in her office and said one of the most arrogant things she’d ever heard.

‘We’re willing to take your prisoners off your hands. Have them lined up outside tonight and we’ll deal with them.’

His other reason for coming was so he could secure and kill the Synths captured the night before.

‘Please explain yourself,’ Hellen told him.

‘Those Synths you captured in the battle are too dangerous to be held by a militia force. I am not willing to allow them a chance to escape and cause havoc across the Commonwealth.’

‘And what will you do with them?’

‘Destroy them of course, like you would do with any out of control robot.’

‘Elder, those people have been slaves their entire lives. They turned on their masters last night and ended the battle. When they surrendered, I promised them that they would be safe, and I fully intend on honouring my word. Why would I ever turn them over to a prejudiced militant fanatic like you?’

‘You’re resorting to petty insults now?’

‘No, simply stating a fact.’

‘They are dangerous. Machines are machines, people are people. There cannot be a middle ground between the two.’

‘You are right, people are people, and those Synths are people.’

‘No they are not. They were built in a laboratory and designed to serve a pack of mad scientists who are incapable of seeing how their actions will bring about the apocalypse all over again.’

‘It’s true that they were built but they were born into slavery. If they are just machines, how did they turn on the Coursers?’

‘They are obviously here to infiltrate the Commonwealth.’

‘I doubt it. I look into their eyes and I see Humanity, people who are terrified and hate what they had to do in service of the Institute. They are under my protection, Maxson.’

She had been waiting to use that line. The agreement between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood was that anyone under Minutemen protection could not be attacked by the Brotherhood. This left raiders, Gunners and plenty of other enemies to be attacked while leaving friendly settlements free from being attacked.

‘How dare you?’ her growled at her.

‘Easily. Maxson, the real enemy is the Institute, the masters, not the slaves. We are at war and we can’t afford to fight each other when the real enemy is out there planning their revenge. When the time comes I’d rather fight alongside you, which is why I ask you to leave the Synths alone.’

Maxson looked at her and crossed his arms, rage in those eyes.

‘Fine. These Synths are yours but any others we find will be destroyed.’

‘If any others are at a settlement supporting the Minutemen, you will not touch them.’

‘Done.’

He spun on his heel and left, Danse who had been waiting outside the office looked over at her and nodded, a gesture repeated by Hellen and she grinned when they were gone.

…

Hellen straightened her coat as she waited for the speaker of the Synths to arrive. She would have to negotiate with the Synth to work out an arrangement for them. The Minutemen had never really had to deal with prisoners before. Gunners would sometimes surrender and they would be allowed to join a settlement or even sign up with the Minutemen, raiders were often shot on sight and Super Mutants rarely wanted to talk. Any prisoners they did have to deal with were kept in the south east bastion of the Castle, usually for something like getting into a fight at the Gatehouse. Even then they would be kept in there until they sobered up or did a day inside for punishment. In the other settlements, fines were normally used as punishment but these Synths, they had no money and couldn’t be kept locked up forever.

‘Okay that’s my first draft,’ Piper said from the chair next to her.

‘You promise it will be good.’

‘It will be a glowing report of the battle.’

‘I still can’t believe you tried to interview them,’ Hellen laughed.

‘I saw my chance. It was a good address you gave for the funeral.’

‘Not my own words sadly. I heard them from a friend of mine before the war, she moved to Boston from Britain way back. It’s an old poem they used to remember the dead.’

‘They shall not grow old,’ Piper said and sighed. ‘I’ll head back to Diamond City in the morning, the article will be ready for release that night.’

‘Great.’

There was a knock at the door and Nick walked in followed by a Synth, a young woman. Her white uniform was stained black and red in many places and there was a large hole torn in the cloth on her side, a wound there closed by stitches.

‘Here’s the Synth who was chosen to talk to you,’ Nick introduced to her. ‘G9-03.’

‘Welcome. Please sit down.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘Leave us for now,’ Hellen told Nick and Piper who walked out and closed the door gently. ‘So, G9 wasn’t it?’

‘That’s my designation.’

‘Good. Well G9, why were you chosen to speak for the other prisoners?’

‘It’s because I was the first to start shooting at the Coursers,’ she answered humbly.

‘Thank you then. You won us the battle. Anyway, care for a drink?’

‘Yes please.’

Hellen reached into the cooler beneath her table and pulled out two bottles of Nuka Cola, handing one of them to the Synth.

‘I’ve never had this before,’ she said in a nervous, almost embarrassed tone.

‘Really?’

‘Synths were only allowed water.’

‘I didn’t realise.’

‘I mean, I don’t know how to open the bottle.’

Hellen felt a little awkward suddenly and opened the bottle for her and the Synth took a quick sip.

‘It’s very nice.’

‘Good. Now, we need to deal with your people. I just want you to know that I have no intention of handing you over to the Brotherhood.’

‘Thank goodness. We were told horror stories about them in the Institute.’

‘I can imagine. Ultimately I want to let you all go.’

‘You do?’ G9 asked, stunned. ‘We, well, we thought you’d order us to work on your farms or something.’

‘I understand why you’d think that.’

‘But, you’d just let us all go?’

‘Of course, but I’d advise against it. The Castle took a lot of damage in the attack, our bunk houses were trashed, so was the barricade and our greenhouses. I want to invite your people to stay here and repair the damage if they want, if they do it, they will be paid like anyone else would.’

‘I’ll ask them.’

‘That’s only one option. I have made arrangements with a group who specialise in evacuating Synths from the Commonwealth.’

‘The Railroad?’ she whispered and Hellen nodded.

‘They are willing to take some of you.’

‘I’ll let them know.’

‘One last option. Your people, they fought well, you’re all excellent shots and not bad in hand to hand. I’d like to invite some of your people to continue fighting, but for the Minutemen. If you agree you will be fighting against the Institute to free every other Synth.’

‘But we were attacking you. Your people won’t want to fight with us.’

‘I already spoke to my colonels about it. They agreed to it, and my chief medic, Curie is a Synth. They all know that.’

‘Why do you call her Curie?’

‘Because that’s her name.’

‘She was G5-19. I knew her.’

‘Oh I see. Please understand that G5-19 volunteered to, erm, I’m sorry but she went through a medical procedure and was left in a vegetative state.’

‘What?’ G9 asked, tears emerging in the corners of her eyes.

‘I’m sorry. Eventually Curie came along. She used to be a Miss Nanny robot but was given a specially designed mind for scientific research. Eventually her research reached a dead end and she decided to become Human. We contacted G5’s caretaker and agreed to let her body be used.’

‘And that’s how G5 died?’ G9 asked.

‘I’m sorry. If you want to talk to Curie you can.’

‘Later,’ she said, clearly focusing on her job. ‘Are there any other options?’

‘I can’t see any.’

‘Alright. I’ll, I’ll tell the others. You’ll have our decision soon.’

‘Wait,’ Hellen stopped her just before she stood up. ‘Tell your people to choose names. It will make things easier for all of them.’

‘I understand.’

Hellen waited, the minutes passing until almost a full hour had ticked by. She spent the time working on her speech to be delivered on the radio that night, stating that the war had only just begun and it would take more fighting to defeat the Institute. At last G9 arrived back, escorted by Nick, and she sat back down in the chair opposite her.

‘None of my people want to go with the Railroad,’ she said.

‘I’m surprised.’

‘No one wants to go alone either. Eight of us want to stay here and work on the farm or help repair it your base. Everyone else has volunteered to join the Minutemen.’

That was even more surprising than them not wanting to go with the Railroad.

‘How many is that?’ she asked.

‘Eighty seven want to join you, including me.’

‘Excellent, I’m happy to hear that. Well, I think we have just enough hats and jackets in storage for them.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘Did you decide on a name?’

‘Well, I’ve always wanted a name and there’s one I always liked.’

‘What is it then?’

‘Lily. In Bioscience I was in a lab growing them and they were beautiful flowers.’

‘Alright Lily, welcome to the Minutemen.’

…

The meeting Madison had been dreading had begun, the Directorate meeting room was tense as Ayo explained their losses.’

‘Out of the twenty coursers we sent, four of them have returned to the Institute. Only twelve of the Gen 3’s returned as well.’

‘Schedule mind wipes for all the Gen 3 troopers,’ Father ordered.

‘Yes sir.’

‘We can begin rebuilding our fighting force immediately,’ Binet told them. ‘However, it will probably take months to build up a force equal to what we have lost. My estimate is two months at least.’

‘What about our Coursers?’ Father asked him and Binet looked at Ayo who answered.

‘When it comes to Coursers it takes days to build them but months to train.’

‘I see.’

‘If I may,’ offered Ayo. ‘Clearly our Gen 3 Trooper programme has failed. We should never have deployed them to the surface. The Coursers are excellent but from now on regular Gen 3’s should only be used for maintenance and scientific duties within the Institute. Gen 2 Troopers are sufficient for combat purposes.’

‘The Gen 3’s simply needed more training,’ Binet cleared up. ‘Most of them had a month on the shooting range and basic hand to hand combat training. Maybe three or four months of training will bring them up to speed and give them light combat experience against raiders before taking on a force like the Minutemen or the Brotherhood.’

‘There aren’t many raiders left,’ Ayo reminded him. ‘The Minutemen have either killed most of them, forced them to settle down or retreat west.’

‘I agree with Doctor Binet,’ Father decided. ‘We need six months to rebuild our army and train them. Doctor Li, how about our weapons and equipment.’

‘Our Synth’s lasers are designed to produce a massive rate of fire over damage dealt,’ she began. ‘Most of the Minutemen wear leather armour which is ideal for defending against laser weaponry, especially with the small amount of damage we do.’

‘I saw one Minuteman get hit five times in the chest,’ said Fillmore. ‘He barely flinched.’

‘I have begun work on a design for a new rifle,’ Maddison went on and passed the sheets of paper around the table. ‘It has a significantly reduced rate of fire but, if my estimations are correct, will increase damage drastically.’

‘How long until it can go into mass production?’ Shaun asked her.

‘I’ll need a few weeks to prepare the prototypes and run tests. Maybe a month if all goes according to plan.’

‘So we need to keep the Minutemen occupied for six months,’ said Father and he frowned.

‘Surely there’s no way they can reach us here,’ Doctor Holdren said confidently.

‘My mother already did.’

‘And we’ve corrected the error,’ Madison added.

‘They may still find a way in,’ Father went on. ‘I want to be ready. Now, how can we buy time?’

‘Mercenaries,’ said Ayo. ‘I believe we can hire people on the surface to attack the Minutemen and delay them.’

‘Do you mean the Gunner group?’ asked Fillmore.

‘No. The Minutemen raided Gunner’s Plaza last month and have most of the remaining Gunners in the Commonwealth pinned down at Quincy. They no longer attack settlements, only guard independent merchants and caravans, if they try anything, there are half a dozen mortars within range of the town.’

‘There are Gunners outside of the Commonwealth,’ Doctor Binet said. ‘Would they support us?’

‘Intelligence suggests that the Gunners beyond the Commonwealth are willing to let the state of affairs continue. They’re still making money from the caravans but I suppose that with enough caps they would consider an attack. That said, I was mostly thinking about a different source of manpower,’ Ayo said and let an evil smile cross his face. ‘Many of the raiders who have been driven out of the Commonwealth have joined up with a larger raider force west of the Boston area. They are based out of the old Nuka World Amusement Park.’


End file.
